Les Belles Dames sans Merci
by cherry-sodas
Summary: "Lucy, why don't you work with Cherry today?" The toughest girls from their respective sides of the tracks are meant to spent the class period together. [AU. Embedded into the 'Arrogance and Aggression' universe.]


**So, I've had this idea rolling around in my head for literally months, and I figured now was a good time to bring it to life. Naturally, this story takes place inside the greater 'Arrogance and Aggression' universe – somewhere within the timeline of 'Impatience and Impulsivity.' Originally, I endeavored to write a fairly (and uncharacteristically) shallow Cherry Valance, since that's what my thirteen-year-old self would have wanted. Evidently, this universe has evolved well beyond its initial ethos. I'm glad of that.**

**In the latest chapter of 'See My Friends,' Lucy flashes back to a time during 'Impatience and Impulsivity' where Cherry Valance stood up for her when she couldn't see her. I think that's because they had recently spent a period of time together. This story, briefly, narrates that period of time. **

**Casual reminder that Johnny killing Bob (and everything after) does **_**not **_**occur in the 'Arrogance and Aggression' universe because I am infuriatingly chipper. Here we go!**

* * *

Around the middle of February 1966, Lucy Bennet wasn't sure why she'd even registered for her school's creative writing class.

The class was a mixed group of tenth, eleventh, and twelfth-grade students, and less than a handful of them actually wanted to be there. When she thought on it, only she and Ponyboy Curtis seemed to really care about the material. Everyone else was there either because it was a goof-off class (ostensibly, anyway) or because they had a massive crush on Mr. Stephens, the teacher who'd just been hired that year to teach freshman composition and, just once a day, creative writing. Mr. Stephens had earned a Master of Fine Arts in creative writing from a university in Ohio where Lucy's father used to teach, and as a married woman, she was more interested in his educational background than in his dreamy blue eyes, which was evidently what most of the girls in the class wrote their poems about. Between the ogling and arrant lack of participation, the class almost never discussed anything worthwhile.

What Lucy couldn't figure out, however, was why Cherry Valance was in the class. At first, she assumed that Cherry was there to giggle about Mr. Stephens like almost everyone else; then, she figured Cherry must have been trying to make a play for Ponyboy since Dally was suddenly taken (by Lucy Bennet, no less). But by February, it didn't seem to be either of those things. She didn't participate enough for it to jump out at Lucy, so she just sat there, confused as to what in the hell she was doing there.

On a random Wednesday, Mr. Stephens walked into the room and said that because he didn't see a lot of large-group participation from anyone except for Ponyboy and Lucy, they would break into pairs to discuss some poems that day. Admittedly, Lucy was relieved. It might be fun to talk to Ponyboy about whatever poem Mr. Stephens was about to assign to them. Then, of course, came the caveat.

"You won't get to pick your partners," Mr. Stephens said. "I'm going to pair you up at random. You all need to start talking to people outside of your comfort zones."

_Comfort zones_? Clearly, Mr. Stephens hadn't been living in the neighborhood long enough to realize that the division between some students and others was more than a matter of _comfort zones_. There were all-out wars going on in the hallways and in the parks outside of the high school. Mr. Stephens should have counted himself lucky that most of his students came to an armistice during classroom hours. Lucy clicked her tongue, which did not go unnoticed.

"Lucy!" Mr. Stephens said. "I see you're ready to participate today."

"In my defense, sir, I'm always ready to participate."

"Yes, I know you are. Maybe we should get you to work with someone who's a bit less willing to speak up. Hmm …"

His eyes scanned the room, and finally, he pointed to Cherry Valance. Cherry turned about as red as her hair.

"Lucy, why don't you work with Cherry today?"

Lucy sucked in her breath, and Cherry looked like she might drop dead in her seat. It was almost the last thing she wanted to do that day. For a reason Lucy didn't particularly understand, things had always been icy between she and Cherry Valance. Cherry and Ponyboy were decent friends, especially since Cherry had broken up with her boyfriend, Bob; yet, Cherry had never seemed to take to Lucy, despite the fact that they had met more than several times. At first, Lucy thought it was because they came from relatively disparate socioeconomic backgrounds, but that seemed a bit tenuous. Later, she thought it was because she often snapped at people like Cherry and her friends, Marcia and Randy, for what she saw as asinine or pointless comments in English or history classes. Now that Lucy was a bit older and therefore wiser, she recognized that this probably wasn't the best attitude to have, though she was still a bit too embarrassed to apologize for it. Eventually, Lucy wondered if perhaps Cherry was cold to her because she was obviously attracted to Dally, and Lucy (for a reason she still didn't understand) had recently married Dally on a dare that went too far. All of those seemed possible, but none of them seemed valid. She wished she understood; yet, she was too proud to get to the bottom of it. Unfortunately, that day I creative-writing class, it didn't seem like Lucy had much of a choice.

After Mr. Stephens was finished assigning his pairs (including the terrifically ironic pairing of Ponyboy and Cherry's friend, Randy Adderson, who _really _didn't seem to belong in the class), Lucy stood up and made her way to Cherry's desk near the back of the class. She knew there was no use in asking Cherry to move to her. Girls like Lucy were meant to do all the work for girls like Cherry. That was the way Lucy had always perceived it.

She waved curtly at Cherry, and Cherry didn't respond. Despite the fact that Lucy prided herself on not needing anyone to like her or approve of her, she couldn't help but feel slightly stung by Cherry's rejection. Even the toughest girls – the ones who claimed to be above the social hierarchy of a small-town high school – were somehow desperate to be popular and adored. Lucy Bennet, in her heart of hearts, was no exception.

Mr. Stephens came by their cluster and dropped off a copy of a poem. He handed it directly to Lucy.

"I think both of you will enjoy this piece," he said. "Give it a read."

Lucy looked at the title and smirked a bit.

"Mr. Stephens," she said. "I've already read this poem."

"I'm not surprised. But when it comes to literature and writing, you're very talented, aren't you?"

"I …"

"That's not a trick question, Lucy. You are, and it's OK to know it. But since it's very true, I would think that you, more than perhaps anyone, would know this: All reading is rereading."

Lucy tried to offer a response, but Mr. Stephens took off, giving another pair their poem for the day. She turned back to Cherry and exhaled in annoyance and frustration.

"Well?" Cherry asked, finally piping up. "What's the poem?"

"'La belle dame sans merci,'" Lucy said. "It's a Romantic poem by Keats. Sorry, _Keats _is John Keats, and Romantic poetry isn't necessarily about love and sex. It's about …"

"Romantic poetry is about emphasizing the experience of the individual and his inspiration, which he usually draws from things like nature or even religion," Cherry said.

Lucy looked at her and blinked a few times. She hadn't been expecting that. She wasn't even sure that Sadie Curtis could rattle off such a precise definition of Romanticism, and Sadie had been double promoted in English literature when she was just in the eighth grade. Finally, Lucy let out a deflated laugh. It was about all she could do.

"I pay a lot of attention in my literature class," Cherry said. "It's important to my parents that I get straight _A_'s, so I can't really afford to slack."

"No, it's … impressive," Lucy said. "Romanticism is hard to explain. I guess Mr. Syme does a better job than I remember from last year."

"He's a good teacher."

"He is."

"I think you'd be a good teacher, too."

Lucy's eyes nearly popped out of her head. In a million years, she never would have anticipated a compliment from Cherry Valance. Yet, there it was, on the table in front of them, waiting for Lucy to pick it up and enjoy it.

"I wish," Lucy said. "I want to be a professor one day. Just like my dad."

"Right, he's an English professor at TU," Cherry said. "I have a friend who graduated from here last year, and she's in his introductory class this semester. Boy, does she love him. She thinks he's smart and cute. Though it's probably not what you want to hear as his daughter, is it?"

"Students have fallen in love with my father more times than I can count. Believe me when I say I'm immune."

They shared a small, mostly inaudible laugh. Lucy could feel the ice begin to melt between them. Nevertheless, it was still quite cold.

"So, have you read this poem before?" Lucy asked, anchoring the thin piece of paper toward Cherry's side of the cluster.

"No," Cherry said. "Mr. Syme gave us one poem by Keats, but it was …"

"'Ode on a Grecian Urn.'"

"Exactly."

"Well, I can't say this is more obscure, but it's certainly not the standard Keats. I can't say I'm a big fan of Romantic poetry, though."

"Neither am I."

"Really? Why?"

"Oh, I just don't understand why the poets from that period in history just went on and on about things that don't matter. There's no real … I don't know, it feels like there's no real purpose to what they're saying. They just want to sound beautiful while they're saying it."

"You're exactly right! Romantic poets are just doing their best to be beautiful without explaining why the beauty is important. None of their word choice is careful. They edit _nothing_. I spend more time trying to edit and make my high-school essays meaningful than they did with their entire bibliographies."

"I feel like poetry should be more careful than that."

"I agree with you."

Lucy had to giggle a bit. If there was one thing she never expected, it was that she would sit in a creative-writing class with Cherry Valance and agree with her about disliking Romantic poetry. Then again, if there was _another _thing she never expected, it was that she would be married to Dallas Winston, the most notorious greaser in the entire neighborhood, during her senior year of high school, so really, anything was possible.

"Well, maybe we should take a look at this poem," Cherry suggested. "See if it's any different."

"It's not, but I appreciate your optimism."

Cherry let out a high laugh of her own. In response, Lucy raised her eyebrows and asked what that sound was all about.

"Oh, nothing. I just never thought Lucy Bennet would say a thing like that to anyone, much less to me."

"You'll find Lucy Bennet is full of surprises."

If she had been a different kind of girl, Cherry probably would have replied with, "And full of Dallas Winston," but she didn't. She couldn't. People like Cherry Valance didn't talk to anyone that way, even if they were as tough and corrupted as Lucy Bennet. She smiled politely and read the poem, side by side with the partner she never would have chosen of her own accord.

"OK," Lucy finally said. "Maybe it's a little tighter than, say, 'Christabel.'"

"What's 'Christabel?'" Cherry asked.

"'Christabel' is a poem you'll never read with Mr. Syme. It's by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. It's about this innocent girl named Christabel who gives this woman, Geraldine, shelter for a night even though Geraldine is a witch who casts a spell on her so they can have … well, I'm not sure it's just sex if Christabel doesn't give the OK."

Cherry shuddered. "Doesn't sound like a poem I'd like to read."

"It's worth reading even if it is unpleasant."

"Do you really believe that?"

Lucy nodded. She was surer of that than she had ever been of anything, including her marriage to Dallas Winston – especially her marriage to Dallas Winston. It was February, and the pair of them had been married since the beginning of November. She could hardly believe it had been that long. It felt like eons with him. They weren't bad eons, but they were shocking.

"I think we're at a disadvantage if we only read stuff that's pretty or makes us feel happy," Lucy said. "You know that, too, when you think on it. This isn't the prettiest town in the world."

"Things are rough all over."

"Yeah, exactly. I don't know. I think what we read should reflect things like that. That way, we know we're not alone out there."

Out of the corner of her eye, Lucy was almost certain she saw Cherry Valance crack a smile – at _her_.

"I'd love to have you as an English professor one day," Cherry said. "You seem to have all the answers."

"There aren't any answers in English. Just the questions."

"That's so smart. I don't know anyone who could come up with a thing like that to just _say_."

"You need to leave this high school, then. There are plenty of people out there who make me look like a fool. I bet you could be one of them if you spoke up a little more."

Cherry shrugged. She had a response, but she was too afraid to give it. Admittedly, Lucy Bennet was being much kinder and more patient than she usually was in the classroom setting. It was still hard to be honest. She had spent so much time cultivating that image of _Cherry Valance _that she wasn't sure she could let it go in front of anyone. If anyone would understand, she figured it might actually be Lucy Bennet. It seemed that she, too, had gone to great lengths to cultivate her image and reputation. Letting it down was too much of a risk for either girl.

"Let's look at the poem," Cherry said. "What do you think this means? 'I met a lady in the meads / Full beautiful – a faery's child, / Her hair was long, her foot was light, / And her eyes were wild.'"

"That's the whole point of the poem," Lucy said with a small giggle.

"How so?"

"It's telling us that she's dangerous. That she's not to be trusted."

"But I don't understand. How can she be dangerous if she's a fairy with a light step? Fairies are pretty. Why would they have wild eyes?"

Lucy smirked. This was a great deal more fun than she thought it would be.

"I admire you for thinking fairies are pretty, Cherry," Lucy said. "Traditionally, it's kind of the opposite. Fairies are beautiful, and that's why they're tricky, according to men. They're not supposed to trust them because if they do, they'll put a hex on them and control them for the rest of their days."

"That's ridiculous," Cherry said. "Just because a woman is beautiful doesn't mean she wants to bring down every man who crosses her path. Don't you think?"

"Most of the time, I agree with you. Though, I have to admit, there are times when I'm proud to be a fairy woman. There's nothing better than being tough. That way, you know no one can really hurt you."

Cherry nodded, but it made her a bit sad. When she and Bob were dating, she remembered that he told her something similar. At the time, she'd interpreted it as a dismissal of her love and affection. It wasn't until she heard Lucy Bennet say almost exactly the same thing that she wondered if it was a cry for attention – a request for more love. She shook her head a little. It was too late to ponder on it very much now.

"Maybe you also know a thing or two about being a fairy woman," Lucy said.

"What do you mean?" Cherry asked.

"Well, think about it. You're one of the most popular girls in the entire school. You're very pretty, if you don't mind my saying so."

"I don't mind. Thank you. You're very pretty, too."

"That's kind of you to say. But don't you ever feel like … don't you ever feel like you're intimidating to other people? And isn't that kind of impressive sometimes?"

Cherry almost nodded, but she wasn't sure if she could be _that _honest with Lucy Bennet. She still had a bit of a sly look in her eyes (from Cherry's perspective, anyway). There was still every possibility that Lucy would suck all the vulnerability out of Cherry's speech and find some way to use it against her. Of course, Cherry had never actually seen Lucy be cruel (abrasive and challenging, yes, but never downright cruel). That didn't change the fact that she was apprehensive to be around a girl who was so seemingly different from her.

"I think it's impressive," Lucy said. "I'd love to be able to have that kind of power."

"But you do have power," Cherry immediately piped up. "Everyone in all of our classes is afraid of you. They're afraid that you'll correct what they have to say or that you'll do better on a test than they did. Don't you think that's power?"

Lucy shook her head.

"It's just fear. I think the kind of power I want is the kind where people respect me because I'm knowledgeable and likeable. Unfortunately, I don't seem to make that too easy, do I?"

Cherry didn't say anything, but in her heart, she couldn't help but agree with Lucy. Since she and her family had moved to Tulsa and into the _other side of town _back in '62, Lucy had been trying hard to prove that she belonged in the community. She'd been trying hard to prove that she was worthwhile. Still, her insecurities got the better of her, and where many young women in her place may have become withdrawn and allowed the others (others who had lived in the neighborhood since before they could toddle) to walk all over them. That wasn't the case for Lucy Bennet, who seemed to be terrified of slipping in the quiet background of any given scene. Instead of standing by, she insisted upon standing out, even if that meant yelling at her peers to listen to her and recognize that she was smart – that she had something meaningful to say. The more Cherry thought about it, the more it seemed like a cry for help and a cry for love, just like what Bob had probably been trying to get before. For all these years, it seemed like Lucy was trying to prove that she was better than her classmates. Cherry never would have thought that it was because she feared she was worse.

"I think people don't know you very well," Cherry finally managed.

Lucy laughed a bit. Cherry Valance would make an excellent diplomat one day.

"Now, why would I want just _anyone _to know me?"

Cherry thought about that for a moment and then remembered that Lucy Bennet's birthday was October 26. She was a Scorpio, like Bob – like Dallas Winston. Scorpios didn't want people in their business. They were private and often extreme. As a Pisces, Cherry found people like Bob and Lucy and Dallas Winston horribly interesting and exhausting all the same. She tapped her pencil against the sheet of paper, suggesting to her work partner that they should move on.

"How about this?" Cherry asked. "'I made a garland for her head / And bracelets, too, and fragrant zone; / She looked at me as she did love, / And made …'"

Cherry's voice trailed off. She felt a bit too awkward finishing the stanza in front of Lucy Bennet, given what she knew (or assumed) about what she did in her home after school. Lucy didn't even need to look at the paper to know what Cherry was stumbling over. After a short giggle of her own, Lucy finished the stanza for her.

"'And made sweet moan,'" Lucy said. "We don't need to break that down. We know what Keats is talking about there."

Regrettably, Cherry turned red again. She wasn't sure what to say, and in the end, she was glad she never came up with a response. Lucy was doing all the talking.

"Oh, come on," she said. "You're turning redder than your own name."

"Haven't heard that one before."

"OK, maybe I'm not being the most creative, but it doesn't matter. I'm not gonna sit here and while you make me believe you're some kind of virgin."

"No … of course not."

She wasn't lying, either. Cherry had finally given into all the things Bob wished for (maybe not all of them) about a month before she broke it off. In that way, no, Cherry Valance was no virgin. But when she thought about the way sex should have been – the way it was supposed to be in the books that she and her friends weren't supposed to read but found at the library, anyway – it wasn't like that with Bob. In that way, she thought, she was still very much a virgin. And in that way, she feared, she may always be.

"And I don't know why you would sit here and judge," Cherry said. "You married Dallas Winston after, what? Three days of going out with him?"

"We had a beautiful two-week courtship."

"You get the point. I can't imagine that was for anything but … _sex_."

"If you're going to _have _sex, you have to be able to say it. That's probably the first rule of human sexuality. But no, that's not the reason I married Dally, although it _has _been a perk."

Cherry felt herself blush even deeper. How was that even possible? Finally, she let a question awkwardly stumble out of her mouth.

"Why … did you marry him … then?"

Lucy snorted in some sort of amusement.

"Good question. I guess … I guess I like him."

She laughed as Cherry furrowed her brow.

"I know that probably seems unfathomable for you," Lucy added. "How could anyone like someone as trashy and dangerous as Dallas Winston?"

"No, it doesn't seem unfathomable," Cherry said, cutting Lucy off before she could eke out her next sentence. "As a matter of fact, I'd say it's completely within the realm of _fathomable_."

Lucy smirked again. She had no idea Cherry Valance could be so wordy. She loved it.

"Really?" Lucy asked. "Fascinating. Why?"

Cherry paused, and Lucy still looked at her with that knowing smirk. It wasn't a malevolent expression; nevertheless, it scared the hell out of Cherry and made her heart race like no other. She wondered if Lucy knew about that night before she broke up with Bob – that night she and Marcia had met Ponyboy, Johnny, and _Dallas Winston _down at the Dingo. She wondered if Ponyboy had told her about when she said that she could fall in love with Dallas. She wondered if that was perhaps why Lucy could be so cold to her. It was why Cherry often found herself being cold toward Lucy. For as much as Cherry knew she could fall for Dallas Winston (and, to an extent, already _had _fallen for him), she knew he had fallen for Lucy Bennet long ago. When it came down to it, Cherry knew she could never compete – not for Dallas's heart, anyway. Yes, she thought, she did believe he had a heart. It simply was not hers for the taking. The admission of the fact stung her to her core, and it had been months since they met.

"You know, Lucy, I want to apologize," Cherry finally said.

"Apologize? For what?"

"For being cold to you, on occasion. I don't know if you've noticed."

"You always 'accidentally' check me on my shoulder when we pass each other in the hallway. I've got the bruises to prove I've noticed."

"Yeah, I know, and I'm real sorry about that. Really, I am. There's no excuse."

"You're right. There's not."

"You didn't let me finish. There's no excuse. But there is an explanation."

Lucy's ears perked. This was going to be _good_.

"Is there?" she asked.

"Yes," Cherry said.

"Go on. I'd love to hear it."

Cherry took a deep breath. Even if the conversation ended with Lucy driving her fist through Cherry's midsection, it was worth saying. It was worth talking about. The two of them were stuck with this stupid Romantic poem, anyway. It was better to make _some _use of their time rather than sit there in silence.

"I guess I couldn't help but feel a little jealous of you," Cherry said. "You're so smart, and you and Dallas Winston … well, I guess there's a small part of me that wishes he looked at me the way I see him look at you, even if he is a hood, and my daddy would throw him out of the house before he even stepped across the doorway."

Lucy smiled, but it was a sad smile. She thought it would bring her more satisfaction to hear that Cherry Valance had been jealous of her for all this time, but it didn't. It just hurt. Strangely, Lucy Bennet's heart broke for Cherry Valance, a beautiful, smart, capable young woman held back by fear that other women would be "better" at something than she was. She was held back by fear that if she wasn't the most beautiful or best liked person in the room, then she was surely useless. Throughout high school, Lucy always assumed it must be pretty simple to be as popular, rich, and attractive as Cherry. In these short moments they spent with each other and with John Keats, Lucy was very quick to change her mind.

"My dad likes Dally, actually," Lucy said. "He's always recommending books for him to read when we're not looking."

"I can't imagine that Dallas appreciates literary recommendations."

"Oh, but he does. I happen to know that Dally reads all the time. We live above a bookshop, after all. He has no other choice. He thinks he's hiding it, but I see titles I'm not reading just absolutely littered on our apartment floor. Even the titles I'm reading are sometimes left open to a page I most certainly wasn't on. There's no one else it could be."

Cherry wrinkled her nose in confusion, but she wasn't put off by the stories Lucy was telling. When she met Dallas Winston months earlier, she was impressed by how clever he was – how well spoken. She figured it was probably from a lifetime of hearing older and wiser gang members speak to him and give him directions, and in a way, maybe she was right. But the idea that Dallas Winston got his ability to speak from reading books … that was impressive. It made Cherry fall a little bit more in love with him, though she certainly wouldn't say a thing like that in front of his wife.

"You know," Lucy said, her voice thick with something that sounded almost like regret. "I often find myself jealous of you, Cherry."

Cherry snorted, surprised. She knew she was popular in school, but she didn't think someone like Lucy Bennet would dare to be jealous of a popular girl. That kind of notoriety just didn't seem important to someone like Lucy. Right?

"Don't look so surprised," Lucy said. "You've got a lot going for you. More than I have, and I'm quite sure you know that. You're smart, you're lovely, and what's more, people actually like to be around you."

"People must like to be around you, too. You have friends. Sadie and Jane, for two of them. Ponyboy and his brothers are your friends. And what about the rest of their sisters?"

"I suppose, but that's … it feels different. It feels like I showed up at the right time, and now, they have no choice but to love me, even though they've figured out that I'm bossy and pushy and all sorts of things that girls aren't supposed to be."

"But that's what's making girls and women successful these days, isn't it? They're learning how to be more than just mothers and wives."

Lucy looked at Cherry, wondering if she could feel her pain. Somehow, she could.

"Oh," Cherry said. "You're … you're _already _a wife."

Lucy nodded. She almost seemed brokenhearted.

"I am," Lucy said. "And it's so stupid."

"To be married?"

"Yes. And no. There's more to it than it seems, with Dally and me, in particular. You know we got married as part of a dare when he turned eighteen back in the fall?"

"I heard something about that, but it sounded so ridiculous that I didn't really believe it."

"Well, it's the truth. Sadie Curtis dared me to propose to him, so I did. I never imagined he'd accept, but when he did, we had to go through with it to prove a point. You know?"

Cherry nodded. That was a very Scorpio thing for them to do.

"But it's been three months," Cherry said. "Aren't you surprised it's been that long?"

"Of course I am," Lucy said. "It feels like forever. And yet … it feels like it hasn't been long at all. But I know that three months with Dallas Winston, and he hasn't felt compelled to bolt … well, if it's been this long, I can see him staying for awhile."

"Isn't that what you want? You like him."

"I do. I like him a lot. Sometimes, I'm sure I like him more than like him."

"What?"

"You're not stupid. You know what I'm saying."

Cherry nodded again. She just couldn't believe another woman in the world felt that she could love Dallas Winston. Perhaps she and Lucy Bennet were the mad ones, like she read about in that book Ponyboy had recommended to her over the summer.

"I just worry," Lucy said. "I worry that I'll do something to drive Dally away, and I'll be left alone and heartbroken, all because my personality is so off-putting that even the biggest hood in town can't handle it. But at the same time, I worry that he'll never leave, and I'll be nothing more than someone's wife until my time finally comes."

Slowly, Cherry drew in a breath. Lucy Bennet had no idea how much she feared that. Since birth, Cherry had been trained to be the kind of girl who could attract a wealthy husband, not unlike a character in one of those Jane Austen novels she knew that Lucy liked so much. She knew it made sense. As a woman in this world, her options were lamentably limited. It made sense to be beautiful and to attract a rich man so she could continue to live with a roof over her head and food on her plate. But there were moments when she wondered if perhaps she were built for something other than domesticity. It was a question that, as a model daughter on the West Side, she couldn't afford to ask. It was funny, she thought. A girl from the West Side was unable to afford something – and something important, at that.

"You already know that's not true," Cherry said. "You were built to do great things. Maybe being a wife is one of them, but that's certainly not all that's in store for you."

"Why're you being so nice to me? I've never treated you very well."

Cherry shrugged. Her mother told her that it was very unattractive for a girl to shrug, but in front of Lucy Bennet, it seemed acceptable. It was almost like they were temporary friends.

"We didn't know each other before," Cherry said. "I think we know a couple things about each other now. And that's why I won't let you think that being a wife and a mother is the only thing out there for someone as smart as you. You're going to college in the fall, aren't you?"

Lucy nodded.

"I didn't get into Bryn Mawr," she said. "Even if I had, I wouldn't have been able to afford to go. I'm going to TU, just like everyone else."

"Hey, don't knock TU. It's where I'm going in the fall, too."

"Really? Couldn't afford Smith?"

"We could. I won't lie about that. I just didn't think it was a good idea to move away from home yet. I'm a Pisces. We're a little sensitive to big changes like that."

Lucy looked at Cherry like she had no idea what she was talking about (probably because she didn't).

"Well, maybe we'll see each other around," Lucy said. Part of her hoped that was true. After working with Cherry on this Keats poem (When was the last time they looked at the words, anyway?), she almost thought she could like her.

"Maybe," Cherry said. She hoped it carried the tone of "I hope so."

"What are you thinking of studying at TU?" Lucy asked.

Cherry nearly choked on her saliva. She'd never had anyone ask her what she was interested in studying before. Other girls asked her about what sorority she wanted to join and where she thought she'd find a nice college boy to date – someone different from Bob (but of course, he'd be exactly the same in a different body). Leave it to Lucy Bennet to see beyond the makeup, perfume, and parties. If she'd been around any of her Soc friends, she would have dismissed the question. But she was alone with Lucy. She was alone, and because she was alone, she was allowed to admit that this was the question she most wanted to answer.

"Well," she began, her voice shakier than it had ever been, maybe. "I'm actually interested in studying psychology, if they'll let me."

"Really!" Lucy said. "I think that's fantastic!"

"You do?"

"Yeah! I don't think there are enough women psychologists in the world. They could use somebody as smart as you."

Cherry felt her cheeks turn pink again. It had been a long time since someone had offered her this many compliments. It was even more shocking that the compliments were coming from _Lucy Bennet_, who, an hour earlier, Cherry was certain considered her an enemy. The surprise was shocking and welcome.

"Well, I'm interested in studying the correlation between teen drinking and teen violence," Cherry continued. "After growing up in this neighborhood and seeing the way the boys on my side of town act around your friends … the way they treat them … that's why I broke it off with Bob, you know."

"Because of the drinking?"

"In part, yes. But in part because I found out he'd beaten the hell out of your friend Johnny Cade just for kicks. I know I don't know Johnny as well as you or Ponyboy know him, but I spent one night down at the drive-in with that guy. He doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who would have provoked Bob and his friends to jump him like they did. He could be sweet and smart and caring. That's for sure. I just wasn't sure I could be with a boy who thought it was fun to nearly kill other perfectly nice boys just because they don't have as much money in the bank."

"Hate to break it to you, sister, but I don't think Johnny's family has ever _been _to a bank."

"Well, you take my meaning. Either way, that's what I'm interested in. I want to know if teenage alcohol consumption really affects violent behavior or if it's all a load of garbage that we've bought into because we don't know what else to say. I want to come up with the other things to say. It seems … important."

Lucy nodded. She'd never met someone else who was so excited about their college major before. She wished she'd paid more attention to Cherry Valance before, but now, she thought, was better than never at all.

"It is important," Lucy said. "Psychology. That's a great major for you."

"Thank you. How about you? I take it you'll want to study English."

"Like my father before me. I want to be a professor, too – like my father before me."

"You'd be great at that."

"Yeah? Well, I gotta find a Ph.D. program that's interested in taking women first."

"Anyone should take you, regardless of whether or not you're a woman. You're too talented to turn down. You come up with things in class that I never would have thought of. Not in a million years."

"Yeah? Well, as it turns out, there are people all over the country who can do the same things, and we're all competing for the same six jobs, approximately."

"Are there so few?"

"Feels like it sometimes. My dad didn't have a tenure-track job until we moved here in '62."

"That seems like a lot. You're real brave, Lucy."

"No. I'm real stupid."

Cherry laughed, and so did Lucy. If there was one thing they could agree on, it was that neither of them was stupid, even if they did try to outsmart the other in their classes.

"Take a look at the last stanza," Lucy said. "'And this is why I sojourn here.'"

"What does _sojourn _mean?" Cherry asked. "I know who Sojourner Truth is, but I don't think that's the same thing."

"It's not. Not really. _Sojourn _means to stay somewhere temporarily."

"Ah. So … is that kind of what you were doing when you were moving around the country with your family for your father's job?"

"Kind of, yeah. I think it's how I feel about being young, too."

"How do you mean?"

"Think about it. Being young feels like it's never going to end. Everything that comes at you is difficult and scary and makes you feel so small. Getting married … it just exacerbates those anxieties even before, believe me."

Cherry nodded. She couldn't even imagine being married as high-school student, and even though she still found herself attracted to him, she really couldn't imagine being that young and being married to Dallas Winston. In truth, Lucy Bennet deserved a medal and a week of paid vacation.

"And then, before you know it," Lucy pressed forward, "you look around. And you see that you're old. You thought that being young was forever, but it wasn't. It was temporary. You sojourned, and you were worried all the time."

"'Youth is wasted on the young,'" Cherry said, and Lucy grinned.

"You know, no one really knows if anyone said that, exactly," she said. "People attribute it to George Bernard Shaw and Oscar Wilde, and though they appeared to say similar things, they weren't those exact words."

"You really _should _be an English professor, Lucy."

"Why? Because I have useless knowledge about Irish playwrights?"

"No. Because when you think of something, you think of it like it's all a poem. I don't know if that makes any sense, but I feel like it does. It does to me."

Lucy nodded and kept a full grin from spreading across her face. She was seeing a part of Cherry Valance that Ponyboy and Johnny always swore was really there, but she had always doubted it. Cherry Valance, as it turned out, was human. She was a smart, wonderful, and understanding human. It was still enough to shock Lucy's system, but she was beginning to accept it. Since they'd started their conversation, Lucy was sure of one thing. Cherry Valance was a shamelessly dangerous woman, just like she was. And there was something in that to really admire, particularly given where Cherry was born and raised. Lucy was born into a family where you had to be your absolute self to achieve anything you really wanted. Cherry was born into a family where identity didn't matter nearly as much as status (if it mattered at all), but she cultivated a unique identity nevertheless. Lucy had to applaud that. The world needed more dangerous women, and it was more than excited to welcome Cherry Valance to its ranks.

"You know what I think?" Lucy asked.

"What?"

"I think, and I won't tell anyone if you promise not to tell anyone, that you might be the Lucy Bennet of the West Side. Does that make sense?"

Cherry almost beamed.

"It makes perfect sense," she said. "I was just thinking that you might be the Cherry Valance of the East Side."

"I'm like the Harvard to your Berkeley in that way."

"Let's not get carried away."

"I can't help that the East Coast has all the Ivy Leagues."

"But you're not _on _the East Coast. You're on the East Side of a neighborhood in Tulsa, Oklahoma, and that's the South."

"Don't ruin a good metaphor, Cherry."

"Speaking of metaphors, maybe we should turn back to the poem."

"Yes. Maybe we should."

They took a few more notes on the piece of paper in front of them, and as they did, they felt warm in their conversation. Everything in the classroom felt right. It was comforting to know there were other dangerous women in the world. It was comforting to know they weren't far away. And the more Lucy and Cherry looked at each other during the day's activity, the more each of them realized they were looking into a mirror.

* * *

**And there you have it! It's not as deeply literary as I try to make a lot of my other stories, but it was still really fun to write. I've always been interested in these two as potential foils (or complements), and this was the chance I had to explore it. It's a little ridiculous, but I hope you can forgive me for that.**

**Another thing: I feel like I've been very inconsistent with Cherry's age in this universe, so I wanted to clear up any discrepancies here and now. I'm not sure how old she's supposed to be in the actual novel. When she says, "Sixteen," I wonder if she's just trying to help Johnny feel like he looks his own age. But sometimes I interpret that as Cherry giving her own answer about her age. I think in the past I've accepted that as my canon. Cherry is about the same age as Sodapop (and therefore the same age as Sadie and Jane).**

**However, I changed that in this story, and this is what I'll adhere to from now on. Cherry is the same age as Lucy because I realized it wasn't as fun to write if they weren't in all the same classes in school. If I ever write for Cherry again, this will be this fic I reference for temporal pacing.**

**Hinton owns **_**The Outsiders**_**. I quote "La Belle Dame sans Merci" by John Keats, which is in the public domain. It's also a painting by J.W. Waterhouse, which is also in the public domain. I reference Samuel Taylor Coleridge's poem, "Christabel," which is in the public domain. I also include a quasi-subtle reference to **_**On the Road **_**by (of course) Jack Kerouac, which is not in the public domain, nor do I own it. I don't even own the audiobook narrated by Matt Dillon. I had to borrow a copy from my mother.**


End file.
